Copyright © 2011 Center for Christian Ethics at Baylor University 61 Seeing Epiphany Whole BY STEVEN R. HARMON Epiphany can seem like a cacophonous party marking disjointed events: the Magi’s visit to Bethlehem, Christ’s baptism by John, and Christ’s miracle at the wedding at Cana. What ties together this wealth of images? epiph∙a∙ny noun 1 capitalized: January 6 observed as a church festival in commemoration of the coming of the Magi as the first manifestation of Christ to the Gentiles or in the Eastern Church in commemoration of the baptism of Christ; 2 an appearance or manifestation especially of a divine being; 3 a (1): a usually sudden manifestation or perception of the essential nature or meaning of something; (2): an intuitive grasp of reality through something (as an event) usually simple and striking; (3): an illuminating discovery, realization, or disclosure; b: a revealing scene or moment.1 s the dictionary definition of “epiphany” suggests, there is a tension between the non-religious use of the word and the meaning of the AChristian observance of Epiphany: the origins, associations, and essential theological meaning of the feast and ensuing season of the Chris- tian year are not easily perceived or intuitively grasped in a “simple and striking” manner. In some traditions, Epiphany also names a season of vari- able length (depending on the date of Easter) that begins on January 6 and extends to the beginning of Lent. It was celebrated as a commemoration of the baptism of Christ beginning in the third century, but by the fourth cen- tury in the West it also became associated with the manifestation of Christ to the Gentiles in the persons of the Magi.2 Subsequent associations with 62 Christmas and Epiphany events in the life of Jesus have included Christ’s miraculous provision of wine for the wedding at Cana. Rather than a feast and season with an “essen- tial nature or meaning,” Epiphany can seem like a cacophonous party mark- ing disjointed events. What ties together this wealth of images? The Greek word epiphaneia, of which “Epiphany” is a transliteration, means “manifestation”—thus the non-religious usage of the word in the sense of “a revealing scene or moment.” Understanding Epiphany as a feast and season that celebrates divine revelation can help the Church see Epiphany whole. British Baptist theologian John Colwell recently published a systematic theology creatively structured around the seasons of the Christian year in which Epiphany serves as the basis for the chapter on the doctrine of revelation, titled “The One Who Is Revealed.”3 On the connections between Epiphany, revelation, and Christian living, Colwell writes: Epiphany is a celebration of a light that has shone and is shining— it shone in Christ, and it shone into our lives—and as a celebration, Epiphany is a response of gratitude and of trust, [for] we have seen this light and we have confidence in this truth; we have come from darkness to light. To have come to see this light which shines through the gospel story, to have come to see it without refusing it, rejecting it, or perverting it, is to live truthfully.4 The focus of Epiphany on the truth that the Triune God reveals in Jesus Christ, and the truthful living engendered by our encounter with this reve- lation, is the common thread running throughout all the Scripture readings and other acts of worship associated with the Epiphany season. Rather than offering a theoretical account of how the theological theme of revelation lends coherence to the discrete occasions of worship during the season of Epiphany, the remainder of this article will exemplify the sorts of connections that can be made between the doctrine of revelation and any Epiphany-related occasion or act of worship.5 Y A Sermon for the Epiphany Season Genesis 18:1-15 Whether Epiphany is observed only on January 6 or celebrated as a sea- son extending through Ash Wednesday, Epiphany is about divine revelation. The focal event of Epiphany is the coming of God’s revelation in Christ to the Gentiles, in particular to the Magi. Like the light of the star that led them to the Christ child, God’s revelation shows us something about God, about ourselves, about our world that we never would have seen apart from God’s revelation. It is appropriate that we learn about hospitality from Abraham Seeing Epiphany Whole 63 and Sarah in the midst of Epiphany, for their journey from Ur of the Chal- deans to the land that God would show them foreshadows the Magi’s journey to Jesus. The story unfolds in episode after episode of revelatory significance. Time and time again, the story tells us that “the Lord appeared to Abram”; “the Lord came to Abram”; “God spoke to Abram.” These acts of revelation show Abraham and Sarah, and their physical and spiritual descendants, something about God, themselves, and their world that they, and we, could never have seen apart from God’s revelation. In this particular episode when “the Lord appeared to Abraham,” God discloses something about divine nature and human virtue that greatly enriches our understanding of biblical hospitality. The text has long been read as the epitome of the hospitality that the people of God ought to embody. There is a long tradition of Jewish rabbinical commentary in which Abraham’s welcome of his three mysterious visitors teaches that showing hospitality to strangers is a sacred duty, as sacred as welcoming the divine presence. Rabbinical tradition identified these guests as angels and gave them names: Michael, Gabriel, and Raphael. That might be saying more than we can know about who these strangers are. But it does suggest that the author of Hebrews had this text in mind when writing “Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for by doing that some have enter- tained angels without knowing it” (Hebrews 13:2). The early church fathers and the great Christian commentators since then are unanimous in observ- ing that whatever else this text may mean, it is an example of how hospitali- ty is chief among the practices that characterize saints. As Martin Luther put it in his lectures on Genesis, “There is hospitality wherever the church is…. Therefore let those who want to be true members of the church remember to practice hospitality, to The season of Epiphany focuses on the truth which we are encouraged not only by the example of that the Triune God reveals in Jesus Christ, the saintly patriarch but by very important testimonies and the truthful living engendered by our of Scripture.”6 What do this saintly encounter with this revelation. patriarch and matriarch teach us about hospitality? First, hospitality, like the totality of the Christian life, is the gracious gift of God that comes to us in the freedom of God. We do not become hospitable people by simply deciding to become hospitable and then lining up occasions for showing hospitality. Unlike the contemporary distortion of hospitality as providing entertain- ment, it is not something we can easily schedule or engineer ourselves. Even when we recognize that hospitality requires God’s help and we ask God to 64 Christmas and Epiphany make us more hospitable, the answer to that prayer may not turn out as we imagine. It is like the old adage about asking God to give us patience. God may very well answer that request, but not in the way we would prefer: not by magically infusing us with something called patience, but by giving us annoying people and exasperating situations—opportunities to practice patience. So it is with hospitality. God helps us be more hospitable by gra- ciously giving us opportunities to practice hospitality. The stranger is never far away, and when the stranger comes to us it is God’s doing. The immi- grant, for example, who may not speak our language and may not even be in the country legally, comes to us in the grace and freedom of God. For the civil government, immigration is a policy problem; for the Church, immi- gration is a God-given opportunity to be the Church: “There is hospitality wherever the church is,” said Luther. That is God’s gracious work. It is the grace of creation. God created us to be people who welcome the other; when we practice hospitality, we are doing what God freely and graciously creat- ed us to do. It is the grace of redemption. As fallen sinners, our inclination is to be self-centered and closed off from the other. In redemption, God re- orients us away from self and toward God and toward the other. It is the grace of sanctification. We cannot do this in and of ourselves, so the hospita- ble God reproduces the divine character in us through the indwelling and empowering Holy Spirit. Hospitality is through and through the gracious work of God. That means it should not be an onerous burden; it is not something we have to do, it is something we get to do. It is a gift. There is a line in the U2 song “One” that is frequently misheard: it is not “we’ve got to carry each other,” it is “we get to carry each other.” That is exactly right. Like Abraham and Sarah, we get to practice hospitality, by the grace of God, whenever and however the stranger comes to us. We also learn from Abraham and Sarah that hospitality happens on a journey. We tend to think of hospitality as something offered by people of means, people who have arrived in life, people who at least have a home.